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Books
by
Angela Greenfield
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Foreword with inspirational quote:
"If the wind will not serve, take to the oars."
-- Latin Proverb
List of Chapters
Prologue
Words upon words written in paragraphs. Prose style bets as the best style. Words satiate your curiosity. Words carry meanings . . . not always literal!
Most books harvest seasons of knowledge. Other books dim your brain while dimming your destiny.
Ripped page within this:
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Some books print their messages in black and white. Other books scribble their words in red, white and blue.
Books never crash, books can only burn. Each book whispers its message.
Epilogue
Author Bio
rhyming paragraphs
clicking of the keys
too fast to erase
stories and poems
ideas on page
whose voice is this?
my active muse
my soul exposed
ink or pencil
verbs and nouns
adjectives
alphabet
scribbles
squiggles
words
Borrowed words, a line from Mary Shelley, Frankenstein:
“Beware, for I am fearless, and therefore, powerful”
I have crumbled mountains, that were once molehills
I have heard the fretful cry of my child, midst thunder
I have missed sleep to hold a sick friend's hand
I have read stories, told imaginary stories, invented games
broken up fights, yelled at games, organized parties
driven miles, decorated cars, made costumes
watched play practice, watched Amateur Night
I have added numbers, multiplied fractions, read paragraphs
taught dancing, thrown baseballs, given advice
I have mended with patches, band aids and words of love
I will walk distances, if I am needed
and I have never learned to say goodbye without tears
I am Woman
In the book called “life” each page reveals many twists and turns in the plot.
Reaching the age of wisdom and experience it is time to dissect paragraphs that reveal great joy, some sorrow and lessons learned.
Words in play bring back memories and excite the imagination to envision our distinct version of choices made, dialogue expressed and feelings displayed.
Characters come and go but some remain to influence the outcomes of scenarios in our lives and to direct our course for the grand epilogue in the final chapter.
As we close the binder, take off our glasses and reflect. May the storyline have been intriguing, suspensful, delightful and peppered with the unforseen.
A grand final acknowledgement to the author who lived the story through wide open eyes and revealed it with integrety and honesty
Description, O my diatribe?
Stand before the court!
O comedians, with thy jibe!
Paragraphs to sort!
Where is hope on gallows hill?
Couldn't be real sure.
Yellow priestess, queen until?
Revelation tour.
Humble as a humbug?
Pride raises high the pain.
Dancers, rhythm! Cut a rug!
Doom is to disdain!
Death, thy destiny. Live free.
Placards of the plea.
O ye angels, come for tea!
Demons, how about ye?
Tyrant of deep waters?
Alliance Black Abyss.
Daughters, commit slaughters!
No one we will miss!
Rivers, needing rivets?
O lampreys, rub thy ribs.
Deadly are such divots!
Just nibble on the nibs!
Unify the endless hordes?
Bid them sharpen swords!
Watercress, thy water boards!
Mother Sin, thy gourds...
In the chambers where thoughts are supposed to
roam free, Foreign voices echo, not belonging to me.
Words planted like flags on conquered territory,
Thoughts that flower in soil not my own.
I speak in tongues my ancestors never knew,
See through lenses ground by hands I never touched.
My dreams are shaped by stories I did not choose,
Yet they feel like home—this borrowed architecture of mind.
Each mirror shows a face divided by history,
Each thought arrives pre-weighted, pre-judged.
I sift through my beliefs like archeological remains,
Wondering which are artifacts of occupation.
The borders of my thinking are invisible chains,
Drawn by mapmakers who never asked permission.
Yet in the margins of these imposed paragraphs,
I find spaces where resistance takes root.
For even a colonized mind can question its borders,
Can recognize the foreign footprints across its landscape.
And in that recognition lies the seed of reclamation—
The first step toward a sovereignty of thought.????????????????
I don’t know if I’m healed or traumatized
I can’t tell you how much I don’t care anymore
I don’t have the energy to leave long paragraphs anymore
I guess something in me just switched
I guess I got tired of my own and other people’s
There’s no desire to hang on to anyone who I’m not certain of
I have no desire to sulk
Only to get up and go for the life I deserve
People show you everyday why it’s important to be your number one fan
Sometimes I think I have “please disrespect me” written on my forehead
I have no desire to beg for something you should give freely
My top priority is taking care of and loving myself
I have no desire for anyone who doesn’t show out for me the way I show out for them
I’ve never been a fake one
Only a real one
I have no desire for anything other then what is good for me
So please if you’re not
Then stay away from me
too quickly the paragraphs of time we rèad.
hand in hand we strolled the pages of our years
standing fast against misfortunes we emerged
shaped by caring and forbearing hearts
refusing to imagine life devoid of one another
time, years, emerged caring life.
Simply divine as such matters
communication and understanding
Depth of understanding beyond belief
Authentic thoughts spoken loud
Complexity of language encrypted paragraphs
Clarity of intention simply simple matters
Heartfelt communication not trivial chatter
Seek authentic expression.
Value heartfelt communication.
Embrace simplicity in
Sorely words, a tapestry, woven with care,
Conveying depths, beyond surface air,
Simply matters, from heart to heart,
Communication's beauty, a work of art.
SIMPLY MATTERS
Understanding those things
that are not understood yet to understand
Beyond belief to retrieved
Those thoughts spoken loud
Bursting erupt from the thoughts
Spewed regurgitated letters form to words
Verse fiber optic encrypted paragraphs
Concerned formed validated cryptic scripted jargon Confiscated communication calling understood to be Understand it's not just trivial chatter...
... it's simply simple matters
11/25/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr.2024
nspiring scriptures:
1 Corinthians 2:10-13: "Spiritual discernment"
Proverbs 18:21: "Power of life and death in words"
Matthew 12:34: "Heart's words"
My heart's hedera [†]
Like two paragraphs
It breaks [selah]
between you and I
It breaks [selah]
and aches just to look at you
It breaks [selah]
when we fight
And you leave for the night
My heart's hedera [†]
Now twain
Let no one put asunder [selah]
What God has bade
It breaks [selah]
An acceptable sacrifice
[Ampersand] we are humbled, broken and contrite
My heart's hedera [†]
It bereaves [ampersand]
As it reads a melancholy missive
It breaks [selah]
and at the end of our dirge
It beats for one last time, then my soul will merge
(And like a hedera [†]
For further breaking and lamenting of this idol factory
(which is also a pariah)
Consult the prophet Jeremiah)
Words made up with their letters
Of consonants and vowels.
Paragraphs from sentences
Which serve as verbal bowels.
All letters from A to Z
Play an important role
Every time we read and write...
Each one has a goal.
Numbers used when we decide
That we would rather count.
They are used in many ways
To come to an amount.
Use a calculator when
An answer may seem far.
Letters and numbers together,
You have algebra.
When the alphabet is soup
Inside a bowl for you,
What was 26 instead
Can become 62.
I remember being told
Since I started joining letters together
I was taught to fit them into words, sentences, stanzas or paragraphs
Let your creativity flow they said
How was i to do so?
Just jumble up the words in the voice of another
Be anything but elementary
Use bigger words, a flowery language
Make your writing eloquent and exquisite
No one cares what you are writing as long as you're filling pages
Your poems should have symmetry
And your prose should be lengthy
Kudos! You got the highest marks
Does it end there? Is this what I perspire for?
At what liberty am I to use my creativity
If I can't make new words of my own?
Why aren't I taught that?
Why must I always fit my voice into poetry or prose?
Why must my handwriting be cursive and my poems have a rhyme scheme?
Why must I always conform to these moulds?
Everyone has a story
We’re all unwritten books
Some of us have the same chapters
for what it's worth
we are all unread open books-
Yet different sentences pages and paragraphs
Awe, in and in wonder universe Elohim birth,
all created things inanimate
for what it's worth
we are all unread open books-
and spiritual physical.
All made by God almighty
so thankful we praise the Lord
for what it's worth
we are all unread open books-
4/15/24
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2024©
I love you like the moon loves the sun
Like the ground to the sky
Like Joey to Rachel
I love you passionately
With every beat of my heart
With every glance I dare
Sentences of words you understand
Questions
Answers
I love you so much
So painfully
I show you my affection
Reflecting your light
Smiling to myself reading over old text messages
Songs
Jokes
I write the words
Sentences
Paragraphs
Poetry.
I speak
References
Joke
Opinion
Suggestion
I suggest
Music
Pieces of writing
I market myself
With every bit of energy I put thinking of you and only you
Music
Poetry
Cries.
and through moonlit trees,
horror stories resonate:
raucous paragraphs.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.